sports – hannah ananas

Tuesday

You know, I think I might end up really liking this golf thing. Not sure I’ll love playing golf, but I think I might always enjoy going to the driving range and just hitting golf balls. We had a parent night at school tonight, so we had to be at school for roughly 5:30-8:15pm. Therefore, since I didn’t work out today anyway, and couldn’t unless I’d done the morning, due to timing, I went to the driving range for an hour and hit balls.

And I had a great time.

When I got there, I asked a nice older man about the number of balls for each size of the buckets – we had to pick between M, L, and XL, I believe, but with no numbers or estimates listed for each size. He asked me how many I wanted. I said that I wasn’t sure, but that I only could stay an hour, and I only just had my first lesson the other day, so maybe around 50 would be plenty. As I was saying this, he scanned a fob and selected the XL button, telling me that XL would fill the buckets all the way. He asked with whom I had had my lesson. I told him. He said the guy was a great guy. Typical older man talk style, if you know what I mean. It was cute.

As the balls slowly filled his little bucket basket, he grabbed another bucket and swapped it with the one that had already started filling. “Well, you can just share with me. You can have some of these,” he said.

I asked for confirmation, he gave it, and I thanked him. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’m a volunteer. Don’t worry about it.’ I thanked him some more, and we both went our separate ways, he back to a cart and I over to the driving range.

I went to the upper level, and poured out the balls. He’s given me 63 balls! Pretty good guesstimate for that 50 I’d mentioned! Anyway, I had a blast hitting them. I tend to be quite consistent, but I don’t know how to fix certain things yet. And that’s okay. I need to stay low with this all, so I don’t overwhelm myself. Baby steps and only casual ones at that. Low intensity progress here, please.

Roughly the first 40 balls went great. Nine out of ten were decent hits, and three to four of those nine were good, straight or almost-straight-forward hits that went far. After about 40 balls, however, I noticed I was tired. My hands started to hurt. I started having decent balls only about half the time, with maybe only one or no straight and far hits per ten swings. So, today I confirmed that I am consistent in any given day and that I can only comfortably handle about 40 swings/balls right now. Good information.

I also videoed myself and saw that I was hunching my shoulders. Once I fixed that, the hits were much better.

Anyway… yeah… golf…(!!!) And I even get to look the part in all these cute tennis-type skirts I now have. Next step is to be able to perform well every time in those adorable outfits – to look the part and to play it.

Thank you, God and my man, for this blessing. And thank you, God, for golf and for my man. In your name I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2022

P.S. When this is posted, it will be my man’s birthday! Happy, Happy Birthday, Love. May God fill you with gratitude, confidence, and love this year. Amen.

Golf!

I had my first golf lesson today. We started and ended early, because a massive – and I truly mean massive – storm was rolling into town. I even had to go alternate routes to get home, though it wasn’t far from the driving range, because the pouring rain filled the streets so badly. I couldn’t even see more than a few feet for a bit.

Anyway, golf lesson. It was awesome. I hit the ball and everything, and I even hit it well a handful of times. Two of them were just like… Whoosh!… That was nice… And the coach even said so on those. It felt really good on those, having good form and balance and everything, blowing the ball out onto the range smoothly, as though I had done it before already. My body liked it. It liked it a lot.

So, it looks like I will enjoy this new hobby, specifically going to the driving range. We’re already going to Top Golf next week for my man’s birthday (the whole reason I took a lesson now in the first place, since I couldn’t even hit the ball when I’d gone with my brother to a range once, several years ago). But the coach let me hold onto the starter club for now, so I can practice, and I intend to practice. Boy, do I intend to practice. I can hardly wait to fulfill one of my dreams of hanging out at the driving range, hitting balls alongside someone I love.

I was nervous, a bit scared. But this has turned out perfectly. I’m so glad I got ahold of the instructor the other day so easily, and I trusted the feeling that he would help me beautifully as I needed help.

Dear God, thank you. Thank you. Amen.

Post-a-day 2022

P.S. God, please, help us both keep level heads – literally and figuratively – when we go to the range together. Please. Thank you. Amen.

P.P.S. I even had a sport skirt and cute shirt to wear, like I knew what I was doing. No collar required at the range, but I still looked very nice and very cute! Woohoo! Thank you, again, God. And thank you to my man for making this all possible. I love you. 😉

Show me how you work…

Alas, tomorrow, I will be back to judging young individuals on their fitness to be part of a very specific group. We shall see how things go this time ’round. Hopefully, it will go beautifully and smoothly, and we will find some outstanding folks to be part of it all and to bring some wonderful things to the table.

Helping make the world a better place over here, on an individual and global scale! Woohoo! Thank you, God and Universe, for this all. May we continue on such paths with my being your love in the world. In your name, I pray. Amen.

P.S. I can hardly contain my excitement about this soccer game Friday. I even have a tam shirt now to wear, and I am delighted! Ahh! ❤

Post-a-day 2022

(Got it twice now!)

Mastery

I have a feeling that, whenever someone has hit the level of mastery in something, especially a sport, it is extremely attractive and, even, sexy to o serve that individual practicing that activity, showing that level of mastery.

I watched athletes today, and the younger ones were cute in their learned skills. But the older, much experienced ones, were something to behold. The little girl in me couldn’t seem to decide where her crush loyalties lay, her admiration was spread amongst all the masters. And they were obvious, the masters. They were the ones who didn’t look like they were doing something difficult at all, whenever they were actually doing it, yet they did it with such grace and ease, my jaw wanted to drop in awe.

Yes, mastery is attractive… very attractive.

Post-a-day 2021

Physical healing

Well, further healing happened last night and today, but I am ridiculously exhausted tonight. By about eight o’clock I was already ready to go to sleep for the night, though I wasn’t even halfway to the house where I am house-sitting for a week. Now, hours later – because I had to be shown certain things by the owners before I could start getting ready for bed – I can barely think, my eyes burn, and I can’t even seem to keep myself from folding forward in a hunch while sitting. I am wiped, yet again. And I didn’t even get that nap in again today… bummer, right?

There only seems to be another couple or few days of recovery needed for my injuries from Friday evening. Though, I could see my knee needing a bit longer. My hands are doing really well, and only seem to need another day or two to be able to work almost entirely normally again.

For now, though, I rest and I sleep and I let everything heal. Then, after healing, I can jump right back into the exercise and the running on which I am getting very behind(!!!). (I never imagined having such a setback on this 100-mile goal… oops.)

Post-a-day 2020

Dancing and Dejection

I watched the 2011 version of “Footloose” tonight. I had seen it before, but I wanted to watch it again. Part of it was simply because I like the fun of the film, but I think a part of it was because I have been missing dancing so much in recent months. I had just determined to go out dancing, when the whole beginnings of the shutdowns were happening – I had even told people that I was excited about going dancing that weekend… I was quite bummed when it didn’t get to happen. Sure, I was excited that it meant I got to hang around the guy I liked longer, since the dancing wasn’t happening anymore…, but I was still bummed about the dancing’s being canceled… Besides, dancing is still part of my life, and it likely will be so for many, many years to come…, and the guy isn’t exactly on the road to be part of it, almost at all… so, anyway…

haha

It’s so funny to me how things can change rather easily, when circumstances change – we kind of just accept what changes and roll with it, as needed. But, when we want to have change, it always seems so difficult to make the change happen ourselves… even if it is changing something about ourselves, and it is something we truly want, it often seems to be difficult to make happen… but, throw in some crazy event, like a natural disaster, and we willingly and easily adjust to a totally different way of doing the daily… I’ve seen it so many times with hurricanes in my life so far, yet so few times with self-inflicted changed… because it always seems to be an inflicted change, not something truly wanted, even if we do want it.

Anyway…, I’m kind of rambling here, so I’ll let it go for the night, I think.

No, one last thing:

In college, my third year, I attended regularly events hosted by this one particular fraternity. I was not part of any Greek Life groups, but I went to things hosted by this particular fraternity because of what the activities were – they were things that actually interested me, like pick-up sports games and other silly stuff. I had been invited by people in the fraternity, so I had not barged in nor forced my way in to the activities. I had begun to build relationships with various members of the fraternity… I even considered, long and hard, how I rather likely would have joined the fraternity, had I only been male and not female. That was how much I enjoyed the activities and the company and the environment as a whole.

One day, though, I was told by a member, in private, that I kind of needed to stay away some – it was inappropriate that I was participating in so much. Now, these were open activities – open to all students. But, they were only so on paper. They were actually for recruiting purposes. The fraternity doesn’t recruit females, so they didn’t want girls hanging around who weren’t the little sisters of the fraternity. ***As a note here, the only little sisters they had were from a particular sorority, and almost none of them were even interested in these activities, let alone athletically inclined… only the occasional little sister showed up, and never for long, and she never played any of the sports.

I was heartbroken and embarrassed. I had been so cautious and careful, always verifying that I was allowed and invited by a fraternity member to each event and activity I attended. And yet I still was told that I shouldn’t have been there, and that it was inappropriate that I had attended so much. What else could I have done? I did everything I could to follow rules and all of Greek Life, yet it did me no good.

Suddenly, I had no interest in being part of the fraternity, even in the imaginary life where I am a male instead of a female.

I don’t remember what exactly happened after that conversation – that oh-so-miserable conversation – but I think it was actually the same day that the next conversation happened…

You see, I think there was some event happening that evening, and I was supposed to attend it – several guys were expecting me and had personally invited or reminded me of it. I think I was a puffy-eyed crumple near one of the quadrangles on campus, when a couple guys from the fraternity came across me. They tried to figure out what was wrong with me, and encouraged me to come along with them to the event (to which they were at that time headed). I explained – with struggle – the conversation I had had, the one in which I was told, essentially, to stay away from the fraternity for a while.

Frankly, they were appalled. I don’t remember their words exactly, but I remember how they worked to convince me that the person who had spoken privately to me had been out of line – I had, in fact, done everything appropriately. I had always been invited, they reminded me – I was wanted at the activities I attended. And one guy’s opinion was not the opinion of everyone else. I loved them for their words…, but I think I didn’t entirely trust the fraternity again after that… I just remember feeling so shaky, inside and out. My world had been shaken. I had followed the rules, and I had still been hit with an earthquake, and slightly shattered from it. These two guys were super sweet to me, but the hurt was never erased. I think that’s because I believed it, what the first guy had said to me. Yes, there were some guys who wanted me, but I fully believed that several were of the same belief of the one guy… and they didn’t want me around. And why didn’t they want me around? I was neither a guy nor a member of their unofficially linked sorority. Because I didn’t have the labels, I wasn’t good enough for them.

I think I established for myself that I was done with Greek Life after that. I had never liked it much in the first place, but now I had reason to dislike it… and I did. The whole point of Greek Life was to bring people together (originally as drinking societies, but we won’t get into that right now)… and they had pointedly excluded me… me, a person who fit in beautifully to their events and activities, to their conversations and general atmosphere as a group… I had secretly hoped that I could become a little sister with them…, but they inevitably picked some girls who couldn’t have cared less about what the fraternity actually did, yet belonged to the right sorority and were besties with the current little sisters.

Anyway, that sucked… and I think I haven’t ever talked about that with anyone, aside from the two guys who tried to convince me that the one guy was being an a**hole, and that they really did want me around. I think it’s always been easier for me to believe that people want me not around than that they want me around. So, this event didn’t exactly help me get over that.

Ugh…. big sigh just now…

Okay, that’s all I care to say about all of that… I think I’m okay with leaving it all there and being done with it for now. 🙂

Post-a-day 2020

Irony

I went to an outlet mall today (filled with almost no one, actually), to go specifically to Lululemon for some sports gear.

You see, the bras I have from there are spectacular.

But my workout have been so good this past year that, well, they don’t fit anymore… they are too big on me.

So, I needed to get some new sports bras, and I wanted to get good quality for something like that, that I would use so often.

So, we go to Lululemon, and sign up on the digital waitlist… the wait is estimated at two hours, because so few people are allowed in the store at once, right?

Right.

Like at certain busy restaurants and eateries, we were to receive a text message when an estimated ten to 15 minutes remained in our wait time, and it would say this and that we should return to the store now.

Unlike these restaurants and eateries, we also received a link that we could refresh at will in order to see where our party was “in line”.

We started at spot number thirty.

We walked around outside a long while – around 8,000 steps worth – before heading back toward the store (where we were parked), and verifying that we still were only around 9th in line.

The doorman told us that, since it was “parties” and not just individuals “in line”, we had plenty of time to go get the ice cream we were considering.

So, we drove to HEB, I did some quick research as to why I couldn’t find a childhood favorite anymore, and I got a very close alternative to it.

We then enjoyed our treats back in the car, and received our text message notification about 45 seconds after pulling into a parking space back at Lululemon.

I then had a blast in the store, and my friend, though not finding anything she was wanting inside the store, found a delightful time outside the store, practicing her handstands, and eventually being joined by one of the store’s staff – perhaps he was on his break? – to share in the doing of handstands, and to display free handstand push-ups (they are bomb, and it is a pleasure to witness anyone doing these successfully)(!).

We headed home after a good while, both of us quite satisfied, both in mind and in belly.

The irony?

If you missed it, the irony was that I was getting new sportswear, because I’d released so much weight/fat from my body through my workouts and healthy eating…, yet I went and had what was likely an extremely high-calorie tub of ice cream while waiting to purchase said new sportswear… 😛

But I didn’t finish it, so, that is good, and it is now in the freezer here, finding a new version of itself after having melted. 😀

Post-a-day 2020

Mister, Mister

I didn’t know him personally.

I didn’t really follow his career.

I’m not sure I ever even saw him in person.

Yet he was close to my heart, dear to me.

And my heart aches with surprising pains.

He was a constant in my life.

And constancy is wonderful in a world of ups and downs.

Kind of like the Eiffel Tower, or Canada – whether I visit them or not, I can always know that they are there, being the lovely things that they are, and people will share with me about them from time to time, their names popping round regularly, as though just to say, “Hi.”

That’s he he has been in my life.

As my dad pointed out, he was an up and coming name when I was first beginning to know and understand the existence of professional sports and the NBA…, so he really has been a constant for almost my entire life.

No, he wasn’t quite to the level of constancy as Hakeem Olajuwon or Michael Jordan or Shaquille O’Neal, but he arrived to the scene only shortly after I had learned to love them, and so he holds a similar place in my life.

Like I said, he has been a constant for me.

He simultaneously seems so old, because he had already retired from playing a few years ago (2016?), yet so young, because he is only 41 years old (I believe he was drafted at only 18 years old).

His story has been magical, and his playing was beautiful.

And, just saying, his smile has always been spectacular.

God, thank you for the glorious gift that has been Kobe Bryant to our world.

Thank you for all you’ve done, Mr. Kobe Bryant.

❤

Post-a-day 2020

Friday Night Lights…?

Q: What are you doing on this fine, crisp, beautiful Friday night?

A: Sitting on the floor at home, filing my next set of aligners (for teeth, like Invisalign), contemplating life…

Truly, I am…

I had two big things today… one was a total win, and the other is something I would like to call a win, but which doesn’t quite feel like one yet…

The first, it was great(!).

It happened this morning (well, noon-ish, really) at the gym.

For the first time e-v-e-r, I took off my shirt in public.

Okay, except for the time at the topless beach in Barcelona, but that is a totally different situation…. and all the times at the onsen in Japan… again, totally different situation.

This today was during the workout at the gym, when I experienced my long-sleeve shirt to be too much in the middle of the workout… I had contemplated losing it at the same time as the gorgeous latinos were ditching their shirts early on – aka my favorite time of the workout – but was not ready for it, nor desperate enough for it.

However, on the last two of seven rounds of fast squats and burpees (as fast as was sustainable), I had hit the limit of caring about how I might come across to others and how much I wanted not to be wearing my long-sleeve shirt anymore.

I mean, I had even considered how I wanted to lose my pants/leggings, but I didn’t have shorts with me, so the shirt was kind of the only thing I was willing and able to lose without being too ridiculous, even for my own standards… I mean, this was public, not home (and we all know I go without pants at home quite often… like right now, even), so pants needed to stay on.

Anyway, I ditched the shirt, stayed present with myself and my intention of improving my efforts and performance in the workout by having removed my shirt, and I did just that: improved my performance in the workout.

And I wasn’t embarrassed when the guys encouraged me in my workout, but actually encouraged.

And it was kind of totally no big deal that I had no shirt on.

And that was wonderful and absolutely beautiful.

And, though the whole experience was new and slightly uneasy for me, I was comfortable… and that was great.

What’s more, after I had grown comfortable with this all, and the workout was finished, I did a brief evaluation in front of the bathroom mirror…, and I discovered that I not only wouldn’t have been bothered by seeing another female in my physical condition shirtless, but I would have even approved it as quality enough to show off comfortably in other settings – aka though it isn’t required for being shirtless, I look fit enough to show it off, which is a whole ‘nother win for myself today.

I was comfortable and confident enough to ditch the shirt, and I am at a fitness level that I’m even a bit proud of how I look…. I already have been proud of how hard I have been working in these past several months, but today I got to be proud specifically of how I look from all of that work… which is a wonderful little bonus to all the rest. 🙂

So, that was awesome.

Now, the second thing was kind of total suck…

I was told, after practice today, that blah-blah-blah I am not allowed to coach the boys anymore… and not by any fault of my own, mind you… administrative blah-blah-blah was the declaration.

Based on many other events that have happened since… well, over the past while…, it definitely didn’t feel like that was the reason, and I definitely, for the first time in my life, could relate to the desire of throwing a flaming bag of s*** on someone’s front porch – dog, not human, because human would be just too much… eew… anyway…

Naturally, I dismissed the idea easily, for I didn’t actually want to do it, but part of me wanted to release the extreme upset caused by certain others.

You know what I mean?

Anyway, so I don’t get to coach the boys anymore – I love them dearly and I miss them already, and this was a conversation I was expecting to be having one day soon… and I am glad that it is over and done with now…

Yes, total heartbreak for me.

No, not the end of the world.

Just the end of this part of it…

And, the reason I want to call this one a win, even though it definitely doesn’t feel like it at present, is because I accept that this is a clear sign from God and the Universe that something else is coming for me… I had to be removed by shock from the place and state and situation of dis-ease – because there was just too much unease for me in that place, despite the fact that I felt so much love from the lacrosse folks – so that I would make a change in my life to develop something infinitely better in my life and with my life.

As I said to myself earlier today, I have so much to offer, and that just wasn’t the best situation for me to offer myself and my life fully – something better will arise, now that it has the space to do so.

Now that I did not have that time commitment, I have loads of time open for something else, something better… something more specifically tailored to using my skills and God-given talents to serve the world, to be God in the world around me, to let my light of God within shine and have it inspire those around me… this little light of mine has been growing, and it is starting to burn like a fiery blaze… not everyone is ready for that yet, so I must find whoever is ready for it.

And that’s what I’m contemplating tonight, as I file my teeth aligners and prepare for bed on this beautiful Friday night that everyone else seems to be out celebrating (but I have to be up really early tomorrow morning, so I can go earn some money for this insane life I seem to be leading). 😛

Anyway…

Let’s roast some marshmallows, y’all… this fire is ready.

🙂

Post-a-day 2019

Swimstress

(Pronounced much like seamstress, but just a different first set of letters.)

I attended a swim meet today for little kids.

On the way over, I was discussing on the phone with my aunt my own swim team days, and how stressful they always were for me – a fact which I had rather forgotten entirely until the discussion today.

I wasn’t concerned in any way, of course, but instead excited to be attending the meet and finally not being one swimming in it.

While watching the little kids swim, however, I found myself rubbing genuine tears from the sides of my eyes (at first, I’d thought it was just sweat, or something in my eye, but quickly discovered that they were actual tears), and not from joy or excitement.

I wished my little family members fun and luck – I hoped their swim each time went well and that they enjoyed doing it.

The parents all around me had other thoughts and ideas for their children… speed, winning, beating the other kids, going as hard and fast as they could… this is what they told the kids constantly before each heat began…

‘Go as fast as you can, okay?…, as fast as you can!’

One parent, upon hearing a coach say to a child to make sure she has fun, casually added to her just-completed long declarations of necessary speed, with a pathetic fervor, ‘Disfruta.’ (Spanish for ‘Have fun,’ or ‘Enjoy.’)

She didn’t seem too convinced that having fun was a priority, though.

The whole thing ended up carrying a whole sense of stress for me, and had me wondering how many children were going to struggle because of this pressure from these parents…. they aren’t even over six years old yet, and they are crying their eyes out after swimming a fabulous 25 metres, just because they didn’t win…

Now, not all the kids were like this, of course…, but there were enough to make me rather uneasy.

If it had just been the parents cheering on the kids to do their best, that would have been fabulous.

But it wasn’t that, was it?

Very few adults seemed to be cheering that way at all…., and it made me want to ask them to consider what their priorities are regarding their children and the happiness of their children.

Perhaps I’m not doing a very good job at portraying the parental cheering and commentary… it just seemed like no one encouraged the kids to do their best, even – all that mattered was going fast, according to all the parents were saying.

And odd topic for a regular Monday night swim meet, I dare say(!).

Anyway, I was able to see why on Earth I was so stressed out at swim meets as a child – there is an immense amount of rather intense pressure, most of which is literally being screamed at you as a swimmer… no wonder I totally disliked it and always felt like I was letting everyone down and failing.

Plus, compared to my older brothers, who swam first heat in their ages groups, and who often got top places in their heats, I really sucked, being in second or third (or even last heat, sometimes), and not even getting a top placement there… I had a real ball-fest whenever I received that all-too-common purple ribbon after my swim: DQ (disqualification)…

So, yeah… that was an interesting experience this evening…

Surprisingly enough, it caused a resurgence, even stronger this time, of my wanting to be a swim team coach… I don’t know why specifically, but I really want to do that somehow.

Also, if I’m ever looking to hire young people, I am so looking for kids who have been swim team coaches – boy do they handle a lot, and effectively, too… totally reliable as good hires, I say.

Anyway, I’m glad I got into swimming in college… I learned that I really love swimming laps – I can literally do it for hours and still enjoy it… I think it was just all the pressure I felt at swim meets that had me practically hate them and, by association, swimming laps itself… even though I totally admired the people who could swim lots and well.

I want to get back into that, actually… hmm…

Post-a-day 2019